Ashes and Snow
by darth typhoon
Summary: Ch. 5 Up! December 2004 Leon S. Kennedy is scheduled to return to his duties of protecting the President's family when things take an unexpected turn. LeonAshley pairing. Strong language and violence. R&R please. Ignore stupid title.
1. 01 Prelude and A Morning

Yay! My old fanfic has finally made it to It's still a work in progress, and I'll try to continue and update it as time allows. This is Leon + Ashley, so if you hate the pairing, feel free to move on to the next fic now. In reviews, I ask that there be no flames, but only constructive criticism.

For reference, I have only played RE4 and bits of Code Veronica X, and also know next-to-nothing about the government and the White House, so if you see a typo or an error in plot, etc. please let me know so I can fix it. I'm trying really hard to make my plot make sense, so please let me know if it doesn't. Thanks!

**Note: please pay attention to the times and dates, as some chapters will be flashbacks, especially in the beginning of the story. I will try to remember to put 'FB' in the chapter title of those which are flashbacks, just to make it easier on you. :)**

_Italics_ are used to express sounds, a character's inner thoughts, or to put emphasis on a word.

_Disclaimer_: I DO NOT own any rights to Resident Evil 4 (obviously), and all characters and events (which I may reference) of Resident Evil 4 or any other Resident Evil are copyright Capcom®.

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**Chapter 1**

The intense heat was what brought him from that precarious edge between consciousness and unconsciousness. He could smell the steam and stench of burning flesh. Its toxicity rolled into his mouth and nose, choking him. His eyelids felt like they were welded shut, heavy and unyielding in his attempts to open them. He felt a slight pressure on his forehead. He forced his eyes open at last, only to have them met with utter darkness. He idly wondered why he couldn't see the glow of the fire that was consuming him; had he gone blind? There was a slight rustling sound, and the flames grew hotter. He weakly fumbled for his sidearm, but it was gone. They must have taken it. Panic gripped him, one thought suddenly overcoming his mind, driving out everything else. _Where is Ashley?_

Three Days Earlier…

7:00am Dec. 12, 2004

Leon S. Kennedy was surrounded. Only two shotgun shells left; after that, his knife would be his only line of defense. There was a familiar cracking sound behind him. No no no… He spun around and instinctively ducked as a grotesque tentacle-like extremity slashed over his head. It retracted, seeming to set off a chain reaction as every other villager's head suddenly exploding to reveal similar flailing limbs. The sound that filled the autumn air reminded Leon of a rather macabre bag of microwave popcorn. He gritted his teeth, lifting his shotgun, preparing to shoot the first one who made a move.

Suddenly, the deafening buzz of chain saws was right behind him, and he turned for a second time as a man with a burlap sack over his head swung a filthy yellow chain saw directly at Leon's head. The American staggered back in surprise, raising his shotgun, but it was too late. The spinning blades bit into his collar, and a painful yell escaped his throat, accompanied by a spit of blood. Leon's arm flailed, clutching at his attacker's hands, arms, neck, anything. The roar of the chain saw blade rose in pitch, becoming almost tinny in his ears, and whatever part of the man he had hold of didn't budge. Leon cried out again through gritted teeth and started shooting wildly in front of him, but the firearm was strangely silent against the insistent buzz of the chain saw. Leon flailed again, suddenly feeling the strange sensation of falling as something blunt connected with the side of his head.

"AGH! Shit!" Leon shouted as he fell on the floor between his night stand and his bed. The night stand tipped, throwing a cheap bedside lamp onto the floor, its light bulb shattering. His arm twisted painfully, and he realized that he was clutching the headboard with one white-knuckled fist.

He carefully released the headboard and lay on the floor for a moment, letting his heart catch up with his brain. _It was just another nightmare_, he told himself. _Nothing to worry about…_

He reached over and turned off his overturned alarm clock, which was still emitting its irritating tinny buzz, and pulled himself into a sitting position. He let out a long shaky breath and lifted a hand to his temple. Luckily he didn't seem to be bleeding.

The aggravated honking of a car outside planted his feet back in reality, where he preferred them to stay. He pulled his tired body to a standing position and rubbed his eyes with one hand as he passed the other through his unwashed, messy hair. He squinted at the calendar that was taped to the wall opposite his bed and muttered "December… twelfth?"

There was less than a week left of his official leave period, after which it would be time to return to his duties. Working through Christmas. What fun. Well, Leon confessed; it wasn't as if he had anyone to spend the holidays with.

Immediately after returning from Spain, Leon and Ashley Graham, the president's daughter, had been separated. Ashley had been safely returned to her family while Leon was made to explain what had happened in Spain more times than he could count. He was then given an official leave of absence, to "recuperate from his traumatic experience," as his superiors had said. What garbage. Sure, he had a nightmare or two, but that wouldn't hinder him from doing his job. It was just the bureaucrats' means of getting him out of the way while they sorted things out. How they planned to explain the events in Spain to the public, Leon still didn't know. However, it wouldn't be the government's first time covering up a mess as big as this one.

All these thoughts ambled through his mind as he started his morning routine. Turn on coffee maker. Shower. Drink coffee. Shave. Don: underwear, socks, pants, shirt, shoes, jacket. Brush hair. Find keys. A half an hour later, he stood at his apartment door, finally ready to start his day, the nightmare all but forgotten.

Then, as Agent Kennedy locked his door and prepared to make his way to the parking garage, his phone rang. He froze in the hallway and muttered a mild obscenity. Ring ring. _If I go back now, I'll probably just end up late._ Ring ring. _It's probably the usual wrong number anyways._ Ring ring. _If they really wanted_ me _they'd call my cell_. Ring ring. _Ah, screw 'em_. He continued down the hall and to the stairs, ignoring the faint beep as the answering machine activated.

In his apartment, a young female voice spoke to an empty room.

"Hello, Leon? Are you there? Leon?"

To Be Continued...

Thanks for reading, please take the time to review:)


	2. 02 Packing

Here is Chapter 2. I'll probably be updating the chapters rather quickly because I've gotten beyond chapter 5 written already. Therefore, you might not see a response to your review (if any) until later. Thanks for reading!

_Disclaimer_: I DO NOT own any rights to Resident Evil 4 (obviously), and all characters and events (which I may reference) of Resident Evil 4 or any other Resident Evil are copyright Capcom®.

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**Chapter 2**

2:24pm Dec. 11, 2004

Ashley Graham stood in the middle of her bedroom at the White House, scanning overturned piles of clothing, magazines, papers, and various other items. She put a hand to her forehead and let out a long breath. It had been 11:35 am when she'd started looking. It was now 2:24 pm.

"Need some help in there?"

Ashley spun around, meeting the friendly gaze of Clark Kensington, her bodyguard. He stood halfway visible from where she stood, peeking tentatively into her room.

"No thanks Clark, I've got it," she replied with an amiable smile, and watched him disappear from sight. She sighed. She didn't see the point of having her bodyguard stick around while she was _in_ the White House. There was enough security in there to detect a mosquito. Not that she would mind so much if it were _Leon_, but…

She smiled to herself, and then frowned. They'd been separated so fast when they'd returned that she didn't even have the chance to say goodbye. She didn't even know if she'd ever see him again, since her subtle questions to her parents and some of the staff had either been ignored or unnoticed.

She shook her head and returned to the task at hand. She resumed digging through piles of clothing, the boxes under her bed, her dresser drawers, and her wardrobe- on top of which a small army of stuffed animals stared at her mockingly with sightless button eyes.

"What are you looking at?" She growled at them.

There was a soft knock on her door frame. "Honey, are you all packed up yet?"

"Almost, mom," Ashley replied without turning. She could hear her mother's shoes slide across the hardwood floor as she turned to go. Ashley turned around suddenly. "Hey- wait, Mom?"

Mrs. Graham stopped and turned, blinking her brown eyes.

"Have you seen my brown and tan sweater?" Ashley asked hopefully.

"Do you mean the one you were wearing when…" Her mother trailed off.

Ashley nodded, a little irritated that her mom still tried very hard not to mention anything to do with her kidnapping around her. "Yes, that one."

"Oh, honey, I think it got thrown away. It was so ratty after you came back."

"Mom!" Ashley exclaimed, "That was my favorite sweater!" She tried not to sound as horrified as she felt.

"Ashley, you have plenty of other sweaters, besides, that one might have been a bit small by now."

Ashley's face twitched. "Are you saying I've gained weight?"

Mrs. Graham's eyes widened. "That's not… no!" She cried as she tried to keep from laughing. "I'll ask one of the maids if they've seen it, all right?"

"Yeah, ok Mom," Ashley smirked a little.

After her mother had gone, Ashley continued to dig through her piles, drawers, and wardrobe. She knew it couldn't have been washed; she hadn't worn it since she returned. At least, she hoped it hadn't been washed… Finally, she flopped down on her bed, exasperated. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what she had done with the sweater. She mentally walked herself through her room, recalling what had been where and whether she had missed anyth-

"AH!" Ashley flew from her bed and practically dove under it. She shoved shoe boxes and storage containers aside and reached back as far as she could without crawling under the queen-sized frame and mattress.

"Come on… where are you…?" She mumbled as her arm felt through the dust and junk under her bed. Eventually, her fingers found a dusty garment box and pulled it out. She ripped the cover off and tore through the tissue paper, barely able to contain her glee. At long last, she held the sweater tight in her arms and, casting a furtive glance at the (empty) doorway, lifted it to her nose. Amidst the smell of dirt, ocean, and smoke, there it was- the faint scent of aftershave.

"Mmm." She smiled and allowed herself a little giggle before she tucked the box back under her bed and the sweater into her suitcase.

To Be Continued...

Please review, gracias:)


	3. 03 Bad Day

Chapter 3 is now up! I apologise for the shortness of some of the chapters, but that's the way it is... Don't worry, they get longer.

_Disclaimer_: I DO NOT own any rights to Resident Evil 4 (obviously), and all characters and events (which I may reference) of Resident Evil 4 or any other Resident Evil are copyright Capcom®.

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**Chapter 3**

10:50am December 12, 2004

"That'll be two-hundred and forty dollars," The receptionist said cheerfully.

Leon tried not to scowl as he extracted his wallet from his back pocket. As the merry receptionist ran his credit card, Leon put a hand to his jaw. The entire left side of his face felt numb.

"Well, Leon, how ya holdin' up?" His dentist peered around the corner of the receptionist's window.

Leon gave a faint smile and a thumbs-up without looking at him. The dentist laughed.

Later, while he was going through the checkout of the local grocery store, Leon came up two dollars short and had to use his credit card. He didn't try so hard not to scowl this time.

The cashier, a stern older woman, cleared her throat, and he looked up from his wallet to her. She tapped her chin pointedly, and he put a hand to his mouth. It was wet.

"What the…" His fingers were covered in blood.

After retrieving some painkillers and dental gauze, Leon checked out again, this time successfully. His cashier was a starry-eyed girl with glasses who blushed whenever he looked at her.

When he reached his car, there were two papers stuck in the windshield wipers of his used Dodge. One was a flier, which he didn't bother to read before crumpling it up and throwing it on the ground, and the other was a parking ticket for parking in a handicapped parking space. He muttered an obscenity.

By the time he was lugging his small sack of groceries and six-pack of beer up the stairs to his apartment, his mouth had begun to bleed again, as well as utter more profanity than usual. He juggled the sack of groceries in one arm while trying to unlock his door and nearly dropped it once, sending an orange jumping out of the bag and rolling across the floor to the stairs. Then it bounced down the stairs.

Leon turned to glare at the stairwell just as his door unlocked and swung open with a good portion of his weight on it. He tripped over the beer he had set on the floor and dumped most of the rest of the groceries on his apartment floor.

"Fuck!" he barked, and a neighboring door creaked open. Leon picked up his beer and shut his door before there was a chance for the old lady across the hall to ask him any questions.

Shortly, Leon was flopping down on his couch with a beer in one hand and the dental gauze in the other. He uncapped his beer taking a swig, and soon was doubled over, clutching his jaw in pain.

"Idiot," he berated himself.

To Be... well, you know.

Please review!


	4. 04 Taken and Boredom

I'm finally posting chapter 4. Thank you all for your reviews! I'll try to have a minimum of 1000 words on my chapters from now on. :) If you find any typos, mistakes, plot holes, etc. feel free to point them out; I want to make this my best story so far!

_Disclaimer_: I DO NOT own any rights to Resident Evil 4 (obviously), and all characters and events (which I may reference) of Resident Evil 4 or any other Resident Evil are copyright Capcom®.

**----------**

**Chapter 4**

3:14pm December 11, 2004

Ashley sat on her overstuffed suitcase, trying to close it. She sighed and stood. Images of (bigger) matched luggage floated pleasantly through her mind as she stared at the overflowing case, the largest one she owned. All her other bags were full, and she had _tried_ to pack light...

"Clark!" she called, still staring at her suitcase. She envisioned the taller, probably heavier, man closing the bag with the ease only a professional can possess. When no reply came, she lifted her gaze to the doorway.

"Clark?" The young woman walked to the threshold and peered to her right, where the door to the Yellow Oval Room stood open across the Center Hall. She listened for the proverbial pin dropping; at least it would be some indication of life. She looked back at her open suitcase and sighed.

She began to wander towards her parents' bedroom, her head swiveling left to right, right to left as she searched for someone... anyone. The hallway was deathly silent, and she became aware of the echoes rebounding from the spacious ceiling above her and the minute squeaks of her shoes on the floor beneath her. The question of where everyone had gone became more and more prominent in her mind as she passed three empty rooms in succession. Ashley frowned.

"Hello?" she called to nobody in particular. She waited for a response, or the appearance of a human form.

A muffled thump broke the silence and she looked behind her. The hallway stretched, barren, behind her, and an apparently empty West Sitting Room was just ahead of her. Strangely, all the doors seemed to have been left open, save for one. The door to a small stairway stood ominously closed. Gingerly, she pushed the door open just a crack, and peered inside.

She called quietly, "Cl-... Um... Mr. Kensington? Are you here?" All was silent. She started to close the door, then stopped. _I could swear I heard something move_, she thought. Looking down the empty hallway one last time, she finally pushed the heavy door open and slid inside.

A man dressed as a janitor sat on the floor, holding a silenced gun leveled directly between Ashley's eyes. Another man lay on the ground, one of his legs bent unnaturally at the knee, and his mouth covered with a thick rag saturated in something chemical and held by the janitor. Ashley could only stare in shock as the janitor started to rise, placing his boot on the other man's face, his dark gaze never leaving her shocked face.

_Run. Run. RUN_. Ashley turned and flew out the door, running. She turned a corner to her room and ran straight into someone.

"Clark!" she squeaked, "Thank god... That man," she pointed behind her, "that man has a gun!"

Clark had placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her, and now his grip tightened. Ashley turned to see the janitor round the corner, pistol in hand. Suddenly, something clamped hard over her mouth, and a horrible chemical smell filled her nose and mouth, rapidly draining her consciousness until all was dark.

4:13pm December 12, 2004

"So I'm going to ask you again... Deal, or--"

"--A beaut'! I've never seen a croc' so--"

"--Over weight and unhealthy? Then Zaxapro is the solution for--"

"--The storm front. Over the next few days, we will be receiving lots of sn--"

_Flick._

The remote slid across the table and onto the floor. Leon stared at the blank television screen for a moment before getting up and throwing away the remains of his prepackaged dinner. He refilled his glass with water and stared longingly at the refrigerator, thinking of the alcoholic beverage it contained.

The lights went out abruptly, leaving the apartment lit only by the yellowed street lamps and the winter sunset outside. The man muttered under his breath and set his glass down on the kitchen counter. This was the second time this week that the power had been lost, probably due to the renovations going on in the lobby.

He glanced at his watch, which, thankfully, had a back lit display on command. It was only a little after four in the evening, but with the shortness of the winter day, it was already becoming dark outside. Leon reached for the flashlight he kept in one of the cupboards and flicked the switch. Weak dingy light spilled over his frowning features, flickering. With an irritated grunt, he removed the batteries. _Dead, or nearly._

The flashlight was returned to the cupboard, the winter coat was retrieved, the batteries jammed into the pockets, some boots were put on, along with gloves and a baseball cap. Leon stood at his door, irritably leaving his home for the second time that day. As a last-minute memory returned, he looked back at his answering machine, which was now powerless and had probably lost its messages. _I hope that call this morning wasn't important..._ He continued to gaze at the machine, a slight feeling of anxiousness building in his gut. He shrugged it off impatiently and headed out.

To be continued...

Thanks for reading!


	5. 05 Getaway

Again, I ask you to pay attention to the dates and times. If needed, I can make a timeline and post it elsewhere for those who may get confused. ; The reason I bring this up is because I am condensing more events into each chapter in order to make them longer (when needed) and therefore, I'm getting rid of the 'FB' in the chapter titles. Let me know if I'm losing you, or if a timeline is needed. Thanks everyone, and enjoy!

_Disclaimer_: I DO NOT own any rights to Resident Evil 4 (obviously), and all characters and events (which I may reference) of Resident Evil 4 or any other Resident Evil are copyright Capcom®.

**----------**

**Chapter 5**

7:04pm December 11, 2004

_Cold metal... Vibration... but what... where... so cold..._

Ashley's eyes opened to darkness, which was good, because she had a feeling that if there had been any light, it would have worsened her throbbing headache. Her cheek was almost numb from the cold floor it rested on. Her wrists were bound behind her, and ankles were tied together so tightly they ached. However, the various aches and numbness were nothing compared to her agitation as she realized that she had most probably been kidnapped... again.

She forced her head off the floor and her body upright, as much as her frozen joints protested the action. Her eyes searched the blackness for any clue as to where she was. Her long-sleeved blouse-and-sweater combination and blue jeans did little to stop the shivers that were starting to convulse her small frame. She couldn't feel her toes as she wiggled them feebly in her thin sneakers.

The vibration she had felt through the floor intensified and the floor lurched, knocking her back onto her side. She whimpered as something hard struck her above the temple and her headache grew tenfold. She lay for a moment, wondering why she felt the strange sensation of motion. The floor shook beneath her, and the sense of centrifugal motion, along with the sound of things sliding across the floor brought the point home. _I must be in a vehicle of some sort. Where are they taking me? _The twenty-year-old writhed into a sitting position once again, decidedly sure she didn't want to find out. She labored against the bindings on her wrists, but they showed no sign of loosening. Maybe if... She rolled onto her knees and folded her body, fighting her confines. She struggled to bring her wrists around her rear for what could have been ten minutes or an hour; time was imperceptible in the roaring darkness. When she had given up, she sat for a moment, taking deep breaths to replenish her strained muscles. _Every moment you waste, the farther away you get; think, Ashley, THINK! _

The floor pitched again, and something fell from somewhere, shattering over the floor. Immediately after she regained her balance, the woman's fingers began to search the floor for something sharp. But balance is hard to maintain in a moving vehicle, and soon Ashley found herself teetering backwards, her palms landing on the shards of whatever had broken. Her teeth clenched, preventing a cry of pain from escaping too loudly, then she resolutely felt through the debris, selecting a shard with the appropriate size and sharpness. She took a deep breath and a firm hold on the shard, and began to slide it over the bindings. The sharp edges of the shard sliced into her tender palms and tears began to form in her eyes. The newly spilled blood made the shard slippery, and she gripped it tighter in a frantic endeavor to free herself. No sooner had her wrists been freed than she started to saw at her ankle bindings.

Ashley found herself wishing she had a watch while she fought the rising panic in her chest. After a while, with a final snap, her ankles were liberated from their bonds. A relieved breath escaped her throat. The van turned another corner, and its contents shifted once more, something rolling from its former position and slamming into Ashley's thigh. She rubbed her thigh and picked up the object, turning it over in the dark. It's smooth plastic casing soon became slippery in her bleeding palms. Her fingers ran over a textured protrusion and, sure now what the object was, she slid the protrusion. The interior of the van was immediately illuminated, causing Ashley to squeeze her eyes shut in the wake of the wave of nausea the sudden light caused. Immediately, she forced them open again, looking around at her mobile prison. The glint of bright red caught her eye, and the bloodied flashlight dropped to the floor. She gaped in horror at the ravaged skin of her palms, the bruises forming on her wrists, and the blood. The blood was everywhere. Her blond hair whipped around her pale cheeks as she searched for something... something useful. An apparently clean towel lay draped over a crate. She whipped it off the crate and clenched it with her bloody hands. She bit her lip as her palms stung with amazing ferocity.

_I need some kind of germ-killer, I have to..._ Her thoughts trailed into nothing as her eyes fell on the contents of the previously towel-covered crate. File folders overstuffed with papers stood upright, stacked into the crate. Her eyes perused the handwritten names.

"Claire Redfield... Alfred Wesker... Jill Valentine... Chris Red... field..." Her muttered reading of the names on the files died as her eyes fell on one name.

"Leon S. Kennedy..."

Her heart fluttered in her chest, then began to pound as she took a cautious look around the van interior and pulled the file from the others with one towel-covered hand. She set the file on the floor and slowly opened it, eyes wide and unblinking.

The photo held her gaze first. Leon S. Kennedy stared back at her with a calm, if slightly impatient expression. His static, but familiar, features instilled in her a feeling of simultaneous ache and reassurance. She reluctantly dragged her eyes from the picture to the sheet under it, an obviously older record of some sort. Her eyes went over the print, her lips silently moving as she absorbed the information. _Height, weight, blood type... Where did all this come from?_ She flipped to the next page, a yellow lined paper with a handwritten address written crookedly across the middle and circled. She stared at the paper, a plan forming in her mind. Quickly, the file was slapped shut and placed back in the crate. She placed the towel, now stained with blood, on the floor and gingerly folded the paper to be placed in her back pocket. She gasped, her hands shaking as her barely scabbed injuries began to bleed anew. She tried not to think about how much blood she had gotten on her clothing.

With the paper safely in her pocket, her eyes searched her surroundings one again for something better than the towel. Her heart rose as she spied a first-aid kit in the corner, and she carefully brushed the broken glass out of her path, retrieving and placing the kit in her lap.

It wouldn't open.

_No... nonono..._ Rising into a hunched standing position, she slammed her heel down on the metal box. A resonating BANG rang through the back of the van, and it swerved. Barely audible voices were heard from the front, and Ashley was filled with a renewed sense of haste. She picked up the flashlight once more and tried to use it to pry open the kit. The lid broke at the rusted hinges and she found herself staring down at not the usual medical supplies, but a handgun nested in a bed of carved out foam.

"What the..." the woman muttered. The van had slowed considerably, and was now coming to a stop. She left the gun where it was and crawled to the back doors. She raised her leg and kicked at the door.

Nothing.

She kicked again, her adrenaline giving her enough strength to make a dent. She stared at the door helplessly. The fading flashlight rolled to her as the van started forward again. She picked it up and examined the doors. Tears slid down her cold face when she saw how small the dent was. Her head flopped forward, a frustrated sob sputtered from her lips. She looked back behind her at the abandoned first aid box and then at the doors. She crawled back.

Hesitatingly, she picked up the gun, trying to remember how Leon had held his. She held it out in front of her with shaking hands, aimed at the door, and pulled the trigger.

Nothing.

She retracted the gun, looking at it with panic and disgust as she turned it over in her shaking hands. A small switch glinted, and she pressed it, hoping it would solve whatever problem this thing had. Once again she held it out before her, aimed, and put her finger on the trigger.

The door swung open with a crash, and she started. The gun went off.

When her vision cleared and her ears stopped ringing, there was one man in a blue jumpsuit on the ground, and another climbing into the back of the van. Ashley screamed and kicked at the man, nailing him in the face and knocking him backwards and out of the van. The man shouted and cursed, holding his face as he wobbled to his feet. His hostage threw the handgun at him and jumped out of the van, running as soon as she hit the ground. The dim lights of the parking garage seemed unbearably bright in the dark of night, but she hardly noticed. Her legs took her across the garage at a speed they never had possessed before, and she slid into the elevator's back wall. She spun around as fast as she could and began mashing the 'close door' button. The metal door slid closed at a leisurely pace, enabling her to get a last glimpse of the man running towards the elevator, his arm outstretched. A sickening thump was heard as he slammed into to the other side.

Ashley whimpered and pressed the button that would take the elevator to ground level. The jazz rendition of some popular 90's song filled the gaps between her ragged breaths, and each intermittent 'ding' of a passing floor shot a spike of pain into her aching head.

The elevator stopped, and the door opened again with its casual speed. Ashley stumbled out of the elevator and out the nearest door. An icy blast of wind was there to meet her, stealing her breath away. Her thin frame began to tremble, her body heat lost to the winter air.

_I... I can't go back... But where can I go? It's so cold... I wish I could go home... _

One battered hand reached into her back pocket, retrieving the paper. She clenched her chattering teeth together and carefully unfolded the address of her only hope. _I hope I can find it, or else I..._ She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. _I have to make it. I _will _make it. Leon... I'm going to make it._

To be Continued...

Thanks for reading, and please review!


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